


Stage Hand

by PrettyLittlePoutyMouth



Category: Glee
Genre: Dry Humping, Exhibitionism, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth/pseuds/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smut prompt for TripUpStairs's birthday. AU in which Quinn and Rachel never knew each other in high school and meet onstage in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TripUpStairs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripUpStairs/gifts).



Landing this role was not part of the plan.

It really wasn’t. She’d moved to New York after undergrad with the intention of maybe going to grad school someday. Even _that_ hadn’t really been part of the plan, but when her close friend from high school Mercedes mentioned she was considering New York for a few years, and they reconnected with Quinn’s old friend Brittany, who had been living and working in New York for awhile, it all seemed to fall into place. Quinn moved down from New Haven after graduation and Mercedes came all the way across the country from LA and they got a little apartment all together, and life seemed okay. Mercedes had moved for some sort of recording deal (which, Quinn still thought it was weird that Mercedes went for one on the east coast instead of the west, but she supposes Mercedes wanted to be closer to her family for awhile) and Brittany danced semi-professionally while earning her Communications degree as a part-time student. They both held other jobs to keep afloat, and Quinn picked up a retail job herself while she planned her next move.

It was Mercedes who pushed her into the role.

Mercedes had started attending Broadway and off-Broadway auditions and also began dragging Quinn with her, imploring, “Come on, Quinn. Use that Theater degree for something!”

“I also have an English degree,” Quinn had grumbled, “and I don’t see you grumping at me for not using _that_.”

“Yeah, well. We’re in New York. We might as well try out! Broadway really isn’t my dream, but it would be great for my career if I got into something good!”

Brittany nodded, “I’ve danced in a few off-Broadway shows,” she offered casually, “It really is a good move. And fun!”

So Quinn had gone with Mercedes, stressing all the while about her singing voice. They had both been in Drama Club together in high school, and though Mercedes had an amazing voice honed by years in her church choir, Quinn was a lot less certain about her own. She didn’t completely avoid singing roles through her involvement in theater and drama, but she knew her voice’s strengths and limitations and tried to adhere to that.

Still, the day Mercedes dragged her to a particular audition with a gleam in her eye was the day Quinn’s life changed.

Because she’d landed a role in the off-Broadway production of what was to be a Very Lesbian Musical.

Mercedes and Brittany couldn’t stop laughing when Quinn hung up the phone after being informed she’d landed one of the leading roles and stared numbly into the distance. Quinn wasn’t all that public with her sexuality, because of all the strife she experienced coming out her freshman year of college, and now she was going to be playing a big old lesbian on the off-Broadway stage.

It got worse when Quinn was introduced to her co-star, who was clearly an up and coming talent in the business, and who was clearly unhappy about being paired with an absolute nobody for this production.

Rachel Berry was abrasive, high-strung, critical, talented, passionate and ambitious.

And really fucking gorgeous.

And really fucking straight.

So straight, in fact, that she seemed to need _two_ boyfriends. One or the other was always there to meet her and greet her with a big hug after her rehearsals. Quinn had watched them in fascination, sneering at Berry’s questionable taste when it came to the sloppy-looking guy with the mohawk and raising an inquisitive eyebrow when it came to the lean Asian guy with the dancer’s physique.

For awhile, she successfully told herself she really didn’t care what Berry did in her bedroom with whom, But after about two weeks of griping to Mercedes and Brittany about her co-star, she finally noticed the glance they exchanged.

“What?” she asked, annoyed. They exchanged a glance again, which was just _weird_ , because even though Quinn had been friends with both in high school, they’d never really interacted. “ _What_?”

“Just…you talk about Rachel an awful lot,” Mercedes ventured.

Quinn scoffed, “Well, _yeah_ , because she’s annoying as hell and I have to pretend to have _sex_ with her onstage!”

There was that _glance_ again so Quinn shifted her gaze to Brittany, who could always be trusted to be honest with her, often when she didn’t want her to be. “Okay, seriously, _what_?”

“You do talk about Rachel a lot,” Brittany started slowly, “But it’s weird, because, like, you complain about her and how you don’t like her, but everything you say about her is praise. Like about how talented she is.”

“She _is_ talented,” Quinn defended without even thinking, then frowned. Then her mouth dropped open in horror, “Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. You think I’m into Berry? No way.”

Mercedes just patted her knee and rose from the couch, “That’s an awful lot of denial, girl.”

“Yeah, you’re swimming in it,” Brittany had deadpanned, but Quinn barely heard them.

Because God help her, they were _right_.

 

Quinn had _no idea_ how to act around Rachel after that.

Which, the one thing she _hadn’t_ told her roommates was that after the initial blowup Rachel Berry’d had at Bryan, the director, when they’d first met and Quinn turned out to be so _green_ , Rachel was actually very friendly to her.

Maybe because Quinn didn’t trust it (Rachel _was_ a skilled actress, after all), but also really liked it. It felt _private_.

Quinn had to admit she wasn’t always the best conversation partner when they would talk between running lines. Her answers were frequently monosyllabic, but Rachel never seemed to tire of talking to her. Smiling at her. Asking her questions that Quinn found difficult to answer because she was too busy looking at Rachel’s mouth. And then one day, after rehearsal, Rachel was trying to ask Quinn about her favorite foods when Quinn brushed her off by muttering, “Your boyfriend is here,” and gesturing with a grimace toward the mohawk guy.

Rachel had looked puzzled, then glanced behind her and smiled, “Oh! He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my roommate,” she’d clarified immediately, coloring slightly and staring at Quinn as if waiting for her response. Quinn had just shrugged, said goodbye, and watched Rachel get enveloped in a big hug with a kiss on the cheek.

 _Well, maybe she only has_ one _boyfriend then. Still straight, though_. Quinn glanced behind her and watched as Rachel’s roommate patted her ass with a leer and a blushing Rachel pushed him away, glancing guiltily back at Quinn. Quinn’s eyes widened.

_Oh my God. She’s cheating on her boyfriend with her roommate!_

 

It was even harder to be around her after that.

Rachel seemed to notice that Quinn was less apathetic and more just _cold_ to her, and much as Quinn hated to see the disappointment in her co-star’s eyes, she was having trouble condoning Rachel’s behavior.

Because honestly, she was having trouble reading Rachel’s behavior any other way. Rachel and her boyfriend—the Asian guy—continued to hug and exchange cheek kisses in a way that looked completely perfunctory, while when Rachel’s roommate came to meet her, he was all leers and inappropriate touches and eyebrow wiggles that made Rachel twitchy and blushy.

What else could that _possibly_ mean?

Quinn tried not to judge. She’d been judged herself unfairly in life—by her family and her faith community about her sexuality, for one thing—but it was difficult for her. It may have been a sore spot. Sometimes, she still thought about how her high school boyfriend—who she had been convinced she could maybe love someday—and her then-best friend had cheated on her. It was years ago, but it still hurt.

But they were professional. Onstage, they had an undeniable chemistry that even surprised Quinn. When they slipped into the roles together…it was _easy_ to meet her eye and tell her she had feelings for her. It was easy to _want_ her.

The first times they rehearsed the main sex scene together was three weeks into rehearsal—fully halfway through rehearsals. The director had mentioned offhand to Quinn that he probably would have started them with that much earlier, as an icebreaker, but the rocky start due to Rachel’s tantrum had made him decide to hold back on the scene. The scene mostly involved Quinn on top of Rachel and some touching-but-not-really-touching, but after every rehearsal, Quinn left flushed and shaking and glaring at whichever boy came to meet Rachel to escort her home.

So for the last month of rehearsals, Quinn wrestled with herself—with her attraction to her costar and her frustration with what she knew about her costar’s personal life. She couldn’t deny that she was genuinely drawn to Rachel—by her beauty, and by the fact that Rachel continued to be warily friendly with Quinn despite the frosty reception.

A few nights before their first preview performance, Rachel stopped Quinn from just walking away after their last scene. Quinn could see Rachel’s boyfriend waiting patiently behind Rachel, a slight smile on his face as he watched them, and after scowling briefly, tuned in to what Rachel was saying to her.

“I really like you, Quinn,” Rachel said, “and I’m sorry for how things started out between us—the things I said to Bryan about your experience and skill level. You’re a great performer, and your voice is suited to the range and tone quality they wanted for the role, and you just…you’re _so beautiful_ and I’m honored to be onstage with you. I hope that we can get to know each other better someday, because I really like you offstage, too.”

Quinn melted, but she tried to keep her expression stony as she said, “Maybe. I don’t know how I feel about some of your choices. But I do enjoy working with you,” she finally admitted.

Rachel looked completely bemused as Quinn walked away, and they didn’t speak much through the stressful week of previews.

 

Nicknaming it a Very Lesbian Musical was probably a bit dramatic.

Quinn reflected on this on opening night. The lesbian love story actually sort of took the backseat to the main story arc, which was about family, and the two main characters’ parallel strife with family drama—wills, estates, estrangement, divorce, bitterness…feelings Quinn had some familiarity with. The stage was often split into two, with conversations both girls had with their families spliced together (and duets), and then scene changes would have them run into each other throughout the course of their lives, until eventually, they ended up taking comfort in each other, physically and by falling in love.

Quinn had to admit she was a little nervous, and found herself pacing backstage while she waited for the show to begin. She would enter from stage left, and Rachel from stage right, so even though curtain wouldn’t be coming up for about fifteen more minutes, she expected Rachel to be in the other wing of the theater with the half of the cast playing her family members. So she was surprised when she heard Rachel’s soft voice, over the low murmurs of her other castmates, saying, “Hey.”

She turned and nodded slightly, “Hey,” she returned.

“We’ve got a pretty solid audience,” Rachel reported conversationally, “People are definitely taking interest in this show.”

“That’s great,” Quinn muttered.

“My dads are out there,” Rachel continued, and Quinn did a mental double take. “Did your family come to see your debut?”

“No,” Quinn scoffed, “Look, it’s fine. My roommates are out there. I don’t need to hear about how your whole family and your roommate and your _boyfriend_ are all here to support you. I know you’re going to be a star and that this probably isn’t going to be my career.”

Rachel was somehow frowning openmouthed, which was remarkable in itself, before she just said, “Boyfriend?”

Quinn rolled her eyes hard, “Tall, lean, Asian, waits for you after rehearsal when you’re not being picked up by your ‘roommate?’”

“Oh!” Rachel said, her hand flying to her mouth, “Oh, goodness. He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my _other_ roommate. I don’t _have_ a boyfriend. I really…haven’t been dating _any_ guys lately,” she admitted quietly, staring into Quinn’s eyes.

Quinn felt her stomach flip awkwardly, “Oh. Oh, I just assumed, because you’re so affectionate…”

Rachel chuckled, “I did date both of them before, but we’re just friends now. Like I said…I haven’t been dating _guys_ lately.”

“… _Oh_ ,” Quinn finally uttered, staring. She watched as Rachel licked her lips uncertainly, then felt compelled to raise her gaze to meet Rachel’s. She felt her stomach jump as they looked at each other, and Rachel’s lips parted slightly, and Quinn felt her body begin to tingle.

“ _Fabray_ ,” someone hissed, and Quinn snapped her head around to see the actress playing her mother gesturing for her. Rachel murmured, “I’d better get back to stage right,” and bustled off. Quinn breathed out heavily through her nose and went to talk to her castmate.

And all she could do was re-evaluate every interaction she ever had with Rachel, now through the lens of _What if Rachel had been into her this whole time?_

And this performance of the show was suddenly different.

It was all in the eye contact. Their characters were more or less indifferent to each other the first several times they interact, but now…each interaction unexpectedly ended with a pause, and a lingering gaze from Rachel, before they would move on. Once, Quinn broke character and glanced over her shoulder at Rachel’s retreating form, to find Rachel looking back at her, which…

Those moments were not supposed to be between the characters, and in retrospect Quinn thought it sort of bludgeoned the audience over the head with the foreshadowing that their characters would end up together. But she knew she hadn’t been able to help it, and probably Rachel hadn’t either. And while she knew that nuances of their expressions couldn’t quite be perceived by the audience—most people wouldn’t pick up on the longing in Rachel’s eyes, or the way she’d give Quinn a once-over every time they’d approach each other—Quinn found herself struggling not to break character every time Rachel looked at her.

The major sex scene occurred just before intermission, and Quinn felt like her body was humming with anticipation.

It began in her character’s bedroom, with Rachel’s lips crashing against hers, and it wasn’t chaste and slow like they’d practiced, but messy, and hard, and desperate. And Quinn kissed back for all she was worth, moaning low in her throat, praying that it hadn’t been picked up by the microphone hidden in her hair. She grabbed Rachel’s hips to bring her closer.

“I don’t know what to do,” Rachel groaned at her, “This isn’t what I was expecting. But I feel this _pull_ toward you.”

And even though it was her character’s (admittedly somewhat clichéd) lines, Quinn heard them as Rachel…it was _Rachel’s_ voice speaking them, not the voice she used for her character.

So Quinn responded in kind, letting her voice come out in the low, lazy purr she was more apt to use in everyday life rather than the stilted cadence she used for her character. The audience would probably just chalk up their speech to their characters’ desperation, but Rachel, she knew, would know the difference. “I know. I feel the same way. We have to be quiet because of my mother, but…I just _need_ you, because nothing else will make me feel better…”

Rachel _did_ pick up on the change, given the way she shuddered in Quinn’s arms. Quinn instinctively rubbed her back, soothingly, and then spun Rachel and laid her down gently on her character’s bed. She climbed on top of her, sinking down on top of her to kiss her more.

The way Rachel’s hips bucked up at her was new.

They were supposed to “move together intimately” as the script said. Whatever that meant. But the greedy movements of Rachel’s hips, which brought her flush against Quinn’s thigh…well…that was _one_ way of moving together intimately…

So Quinn ground her hips and thigh down harder. She felt the response. The way Rachel’s hand tightened on the back of her neck and on her shoulder, the nearly silent gasp, and the way their eyes met, suddenly, intensely. Rachel searched Quinn’s face, then smiled very slightly, and pressed her hips upward again.

Quinn ground her thigh down harder in response and Rachel’s head tipped back slightly.

“Is this okay?” Quinn asked, her character’s line falling from her mouth with more desperation lacing it than ever before. She _needed_ to know that this was actually happening. That the way she was pressing down into Rachel was not acting anymore.

“Yes,” Rachel whispered, focusing again on Quinn, her eyes wild and delighted. Her thighs parted a bit more and one of her hands traveled down to grip Quinn’s hip, pressing Quinn’s body into her more forcefully, “Please,” she moaned.

Quinn raised herself on her hands a bit to gain more leverage as she pressed down into Rachel, and allowed one hand to grip Rachel’s breast over her dress. Before, when she’d just move her fingers purposelessly, wanting to grope her costar as little as possible, now she ran her thumb over where she _knew_ Rachel’s nipple must be until she could feel it, a firm nub beneath the fabric. Quinn pinched it and kept moving her thigh against Rachel. The angle wasn’t great—Quinn had practiced the scene with her body between Rachel’s legs rather than with their legs entangled and so had gotten on top of her that way, so she was kind of grinding down with the side of her upper thigh, almost her pelvis. Rachel was thrusting back with equal vigor, and after some time, Quinn vaguely remembered that they were in front of an audience, and that there were other actors just offstage, and that Bryan would _definitely_ notice if they spent longer on this part of the scene than was strictly necessary. Someone in the audience coughed, although she had the distinct impression that most of the audience were holding their breath, like she was, right at that moment, like Rachel seemed to be, with her little suppressed whimpers seeming to get caught in her throat as her back bowed and—

There was nothing lovelier than Rachel Berry coming. Coming, for real this time, not the shuddering bucking she would do when she pretended to come when they rehearsed. Her hips _rolled_ , repeatedly, up against Quinn, her fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of Quinn’s neck in a way that was strictly involuntary, and she expelled a barely audible whimper that was clearly suppressing a much _bigger_ sound that wanted to come out. But like the script said, she had to be quiet.

Besides which, the audience. Who, Quinn though, had just released their collective breath. She could feel it in the air, the way the tension had evaporated some, and then reformed, as the audience’s focus began to feel keener now. Quinn felt them as though they had all sat up straighter in their seat, as though they were all whispering, _what happens now_?

That’s what she was whispering, in her own mind. But it was really more like a buzzing, like something in the air had been born the moment Quinn made Rachel Berry come, and lived inside her mind.

Rachel’s eyes opened, relaxed, almost bleary, and her mouth twisted into a half-grin and she raised her head to kiss Quinn lazily, “Thank you…God I had no idea how much I needed that,” she murmured, carefully stroking Quinn’s hair out of her face, avoiding the microphone on one side of her head.

Quinn cleared her throat, abruptly unable to speak her lines, “I’m glad, that was…just…you were incredible,” she breathed sincerely.

Rachel’s eyes took on a devilish glint as she asked, “What can I do for _you_?”

“I…I don’t…it’s okay,” Quinn managed to get out. But it _wasn’t_ , really, because she just remembered what was going to happen next, and no, that couldn’t happen, that…

Rachel reached between their bodies for her jeans, and Quinn felt her skilled fingers popping the button and unzipping them—a move she’d practiced until she was able to do it with one hand easily. Now, Quinn found herself wondering if Rachel demanded that extra practice for _other_ reasons and…

Rachel was supposed to reach barely into Quinn’s pants. And not into her underwear—which, Quinn was wearing two pairs, just so that it would _look_ like Rachel was reaching into panties and still have a barrier there—if anyone was looking that close. She was supposed to reach in just enough that her fingers just _barely_ brushed anything really intimate. Rachel’s small hands were used to their full benefit, because she could slide them into Quinn’s pants until just the wrist was showing and _still_ not really be touching anything.

But this time, Rachel met Quinn’s eye and quirked one eyebrow, still looking absolutely devilish, and when Quinn licked her lips in response—a nervous gesture more than anything, because of her current _condition_ , Rachel bypassed both pairs of underwear and slid down _further_ than she had during any rehearsal, when she’d been tentative and uncertain, as if afraid Quinn would attack her, and then gasped when her fingers met wetness.

So much wetness. Abundant wetness. Quinn would have been embarrassed if she weren’t so busy stifling a startled moan as Rachel’s fingers drifted down to touch her.

“Oh,” Quinn started, then, “Ohmygod,” and it came out much _faster_ , much more _nervous_ than it ever had before, which made sense, because it was her character’s first time with a woman, and it had been hard for Quinn to really _convey_ the kind of pitch one’s voice takes on when they’re simultaneously excited and terrified, but there it was, there was the exact cadence her character needed, but, it wasn’t even really _about_ her character anymore, it was about _Rachel_ , and the way her fingers brushed over Quinn’s clit, while Quinn struggled to hold herself upright, and…

“It’s okay,” Rachel purred at her, still looking mischievous, “you’re okay.”

And maybe that was between their characters. Maybe that was Quinn’s character really learning that it could be alright to love a woman, but it was also Quinn knowing that…whatever was happening between them, Rachel couldn’t wait for it to start either.

Rachel’s fingers picked up their pace, stroking in tiny, speedy circles over Quinn clit, and the buzzing in Quinn’s head that had been there before, like a desperate, tiny panic alarm, increased in intensity as the sensations in her body felt stronger and stronger, and she realized dimly that she was stifling whimpers, and bucking her hips very slightly against Rachel’s hand, and as she bit her lip, she opened her eyes and met Rachel’s gaze, now open in awe and wonderment, and Rachel murmured her line, “Just let go.”

It was enough for Quinn.

Her hips spasmed harder for a few moments as she felt that dip in her stomach and then they were rolling against Rachel’s palm as she let out a low moan, one she was dimly aware the audience could hear as she rode out her orgasm, shuddering, on her knees between Rachel Berry’s legs. But it was okay. Her character _wouldn’t_ have the self-control to stay silent.

She wanted to collapse forward onto Rachel, feeling spent and foggy-headed, but then Rachel was removing her hand, slowly, wiping it on Quinn’s panties as she extracted it, and then brought the digits to her mouth, which was… _fuck_ that had never happened in any rehearsal, ever. Quinn shivered involuntarily as Rachel smiled, removing her hand, and then reached for Quinn to bring her down to cuddle, kissing her head and softly saying, “You’re so beautiful.” The audience’s attention felt soft, and warm, and Quinn felt safe, like she was in a cocoon, or her own bedroom.

The stage lights went down. The curtain closed.

Rachel was pushing her off of her.

They exited the stage together, Rachel not even looking at her, and suddenly Quinn’s heart ached at the cold shoulder she was receiving, and she remembered: Rachel Berry was ambitious. It was a trait Quinn admired, but…it also meant Rachel Berry would do anything to achieve fame.

Including making sure her show had a stellar opening night.

Including…making her costar _actually_ come onstage, to improve the scene?

Bryan approached them, saying, “Ladies, that was excellent, you really brought the chemistry alive. Can I talk to you about a few things, though?”

“Later,” Rachel snapped at him, and Quinn involuntarily winced, because by the set of her shoulders, she knew Rachel was in diva mode. “I need to speak to Fabray alone.” Rachel glanced over her shoulder, giving Quinn a brief once-over, and said sternly, “Follow me.”

“Ladies, is everything…?” Bryan tried, but Quinn was picking up her feet to follow Rachel’s long strides back to the dressing rooms. Rachel entered her own, leaving the door open for Quinn to follow her inside.

“Rachel, I’m…I’m sorry,” Quinn started, but Rachel interrupted.

“Don’t…don’t apologize,” There was still an edge to her voice, a tension, like the eyes of an audience who wasn’t with them.

“I—” Quinn started again, feeling strangely remorseful, and guilty and violated.

Rachel stopped whatever thought was happening by turning around, reaching around Quinn to shut the door (Quinn jumped out of the way) and then grabbing Quinn’s shirt to press her against the door and kiss her.

 _Oh_.

Rachel pulled her lips away enough to murmur, “I wanted this. It’s all I could think about. Noah—one of my roommates—all he ever _does_ is make fun of my crush on you. And Mike would try to be supportive, but…” she kissed Quinn again, “I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. Was it…okay?”

“Yes,” Quinn answered immediately, “God, I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t wanted you for just as long. Kiss me again.”

And as Rachel pulled their bodies closer and her hands began to drift up the back of Quinn’s shirt, Quinn couldn’t help but wonder…

What would their sex be like _without_ an audience?


End file.
